Director Report Card: Spike Jonze (2020)

5. Beastie Boys Story

Spike Jonze has always been highly involved with the music world. He’s directed so many music videos over the years that his film directing career really can be considered a side-gig to his music video career. Of his many fruitful collaborations over the years, his relationship with the Beastie Boys is probably his most important. “Sabotage” is, and with good reason, widely considered one of the greatest music videos of all time. The longtime friendship with the band resulted in Jonze co-authoring the "Beastie Boys Book," a definitive history of the group. Last year, the two surviving boys - Michael "Mike D." Diamond and Adam "Ad-Rock" Horovitz - did a series of live shows as a companion piece to the book, which Jonze also directed. Earlier this year, a filmed version of the final performance of "Beastie Boys Story" would be released to Apple TV, technically making it his first feature film in seven years. 

"Beastie Boys Story" has the influential white boy hip-hop/alternative band - or at least two-thirds of it - recounting the history of the act in their own words. Following the death of Adam "MCA" Yauch in 2014 from cancer, the group officially disbanded. As a homage to their fallen friend, the remaining Boys and Jonze put together a series of live stage shows, of the two sharing memories, stories, images, and videos with a packed audience. "Beastie Boys Story" is edited from several of these shows, with lots of other goodies included. 

A filmed stage show probably doesn't sound like the most cinematic experience. And it's true that "Beastie Boys Story" is mostly composed of Diamond and Horovitz standing on a stage, in front of a large video screen, and talking to an audience. However, given Jonze's involvement and the Boys' rebellious spirit, some fun touches are included. The guys interact with the on-screen clips and animations. A recreation of the band's home-made playback machine is carted out. Jonze himself yells at the stage during several faux technical problems. It's more than just people talking on a stage, at the very least.

What most makes "Beastie Boys Story" worth seeing is the clear brotherhood between these guys. While they recite prepared speeches from teleprompters for most of the show, there are a number of more off-the-cuff moments. When a clip from Ad-Rock's ill-fated attempt at acting is shown, Mike has it played back several times for extra chances at mocking it. More than once, one of the guys will flub a line, leading to joking around and light-hearted mockery. It's obvious these two have been friends most of their lives. Watching that friendship play out is certainly quite entertaining. 

I'll admit, I'm far from a Beastie Boys aficionado. Yeah, I watched and enjoyed the "Sabotage" and "Intergalactic" videos. But I haven't heard anything but the big hits, your "Brass Monkey"s and so forth. So "Beastie Boys Story" was a deep education in the band's history for me. I had no idea that they started out as a hardcore punk band, with a cool girl drummer. The story of how three friends joking around together - one of their earliest songs was a goof track about Carvel Ice Cream's Cookiepuss mascot - slowly became a real group is fascinating. Basically, through an association with the soon-to-be head of Def-Jam Records, and because the Fat Boys weren't available for a key gig, these three jokers became a rap act and ended up rubbing shoulders with the most iconic hip-hop groups and executives of the day. 

There's a lot of good stories from these years. At Rick Rubin's insistence, the trio adopted a tough guy pro-wrestler style persona. Which was not-so-well-received in a black club or when opening for Madonna. Following the surprise success of "Fight for Your Right (To Party)" - Ad-Rock says the video was filmed in a friend's apartment - the ironic adoption of the party guy personas became more sincere. They had giant beer cans and an inflatable dick in a box in their concerts. The guys admit they drank way too much and were high too often. A featured appearance on Soul Train, where all three drunkenly converse with Don Cornelius, is pretty hilarious. 

The stories of rock star excess seem a little more good-natured than most. (The guys acknowledge the impractical side of outrageous fashion and extravagant mansion they briefly ended up with.) Because those party guy personalities were ironic. The band quickly came to resent them, forcing a creative reshuffling for their second album. Watching the Beastie Boys style and sound evolve is pretty interesting, as they embraced an increasingly eccentric mix of genres. Especially amusing is how the guys decided to learn how to actually play instruments. The musical innovations would lead to those iconic, innovative music videos... Which led to MCA pranking the MTV Music Awards when "Sabotage" was snubbed. They would even apologize for some of their sexist, early lyrics. (Ad-Rock is married to noted feminist Kathleen Hanna, by the way.) 

Ultimately, "Beastie Boys Story" is as much a way to reminisce about fallen friends as it is a celebration of the band's journey. Horovitz gets visibly choked up on several occasions, when discussing the last few years they had with the late Adam Yauch. A recollection of the last concert they performed together – of course, they didn't know it was their last concert at the time – is quite touching. They share little anecdotes about their gone friend, about his side-gig as a super in an apartment building or his sudden mastery of the upright bas. It's not the only lost friend they memorialize, as a close partner from their early days also passed away along the journey. As a story about men on the other end of their lives, having lost friends and companions, “Beastie Boys Story” is surprisingly emotional.

”Beastie Boys Story” runs about two hours, which must seem long for this kind of thing. Yet the film doesn't see much discussion about the bands last three albums, cutting the story off with 2000's “Hello Nasty.” Moreover, the film's ending is a bit abrupt. It definitely seems like “Beastie Boys Story” could've run for an hour longer. (Considering Jonze packs the end credits with additional footage, and a few celebrity cameos, there was obviously a surplus of footage left over.) As surprising as it is to say, I might not have minded that. Horovitz and Diamond are compelling presence and they tell their story with feeling, humor, and fondness. Combined with Jonze's energetic guiding hand, I came away from "Beastie Boys Story" with a much deeper appreciation of these three Jewish kids from New York City. I'll have to explore their discography more. [Grade: B]

Director Report Card: Spike Jonze (2013)

4. Her

Spike Jonze and Charlie Kaufman just can't get away from each other. “Her,” the director's fourth feature, was initially believed to be a Jonze original. He is the only writer officially credited with the screenplay. It's premise – a lonely man falls in love with his computer's operating system – certainly seems in Kaufman's wheelhouse though. Later, we learned that Kaufman did some uncredited rewrites on the movie, which explains that. The film, the director's latest, would be another critically acclaimed hit, out-grossing its budget and winning one Academy Award and being nominated for four others.

It's the near future. Theodore Twombly, who works for a company that writes letters upon request for other people, is currently going through a divorce with his longtime wife. Lonely and unlucky in love, Theodore buys a new, high-tech operating system. The artificial intelligence names itself Samantha and begins to communicate with Theodore. She's smart, funny, and knows everything Theodore is thinking. Theodore quickly falls in love and Samantha shares his feelings. However, having a romantic relationship with an operating system comes with its own problems.

Science fiction is full of far-out depictions of the future. Usually these veer towards the implausible. The exact time period “Her” takes place in is never specified. However, I'd wager it's bound to be one of the more realistic depictions of the future. Things look more or less the same as they do now. It's mostly the hardware that's different. Computers are tiny handheld devices that are primarily voice activated. Even chat rooms are operated by voice. Video games are large holographic programs, the user interacting with them via hand motions. It's a world that extrapolates from currently existing technology, suggesting a future that seems pretty plausible.

One aspect of this future strikes me as especially interesting. In my original review of “Her,” I fixated on what is probably a small background detail. Theodore is not the only one on his damn computer all the time. Nearly every person we see in the background has earbuds on and are looking at a tiny screen. If a critique of digital-assisted narcissism is in the film's DNA, it's easy to extend this theme to the main story. The first thing Samantha does when Theodore turns her on is ask about himself. The OS reflects back his own personality to him. That's why he falls in love with her so quickly, as Theodore is constantly inside his own head. Is Jonze poking at millennial ego-centrism in “Her?” Or is this simply an accurate, if exaggerated, depiction of our screen and social media obsessed world as it exist now?

I'm probably way off, as “Her” is most concerned with more worldly ideas. It's a story about loneliness and love. Theodore's loneliness is reflected in his solitary work environment and empty apartment. Even when he's with Samantha, he's often literally alone, as she's never physically with him. The loneliness brings the two of them together, as Samantha often expresses a sense of isolation too, a computerized voice in a cyberspace void. They compliment one another, Samantha getting Theodore out of his apartment and Theodore giving Samantha a sense of self in the physical world.

Joaquin Phoenix has become well-known for giving intense in auteur projects. “Her” finds him in a far more relaxed form. With a bristly Ned Flanders mustache, a pair of thick glasses, and high-waisted pants, he’s not immediately recognizable. As Theodore, he’s a soft-spoken, withdrawn, shy man. Phoenix makes the hurt the character is obviously suffering from apparent on his face and in his body language. He’s tired and sad at most times but doesn’t most people see it. When Samantha comes into his life, he’s suddenly re-energized. Yet Phoenix doesn’t let the character’s self-centered side go either. Theodore is sweet and hurting but he’s also prickly and prone to selfish fits. It’s a well-rounded, well realized performance.

As the other half of the relationship, present in voice but not body, is Scarlett Johansson as Samantha. Samantha Morton was originally cast in the part but Johansson replaced her in post production. Though I suppose we'll never know how Morton was in the part, it's hard to imagine anyone else bringing Samantha to life besides Johansson. Johansson's smoky voice is distinctive enough to be recognizable but not so much that you loose sight of Samantha as a unique character. Johansson communicates sweetness, when gently flirting with Theodore. Yet Samantha isn't simply a digitized Manic Pixie Dream Girl. She has fears and vulnerabilities all her own. That Johansson pulled all of this off with only her voice finally dismissed the belief that she was only a pretty face.

The focus is primarily on Phoenix and Johansson but “Her” features a strong supporting cast too. One way the film bumps up against wish fulfillment is by giving Theodore a succession of beautiful girlfriends. His ex-wife is Ronney Mara, his platonic best friend is Amy Adams, he nearly sleeps with Portia Doubleday, and he goes out on a hot date with Olivia Wilde. The film fends this off with the strength of its cast. In her little amount of screen time, Wilde projects a raw vulnerability. Doubleday has a similar attribute, though her character has less to do. Adams consistently brings a light presence to her scenes, being charming and sweet. Mara, meanwhile, is powerful and forceful during a key moment, where she calls Theodore on his bullshit.

The idea of a romance between a human and a computer certainly seems tawdry. It's a premise that has been mined for other movies, like cult comedy “Electric Dreams,” and various anthology TV shows. “Her” does, indeed, feature a sex scene between Theodore and Samantha. However, it's far from sleazy. Instead, the scene is approached with genuine eroticism. The first love scene is conveyed primarily through their voices. Eventually, the scene fades to black, forcing the audience to focus solely on their voices. The focus is more on the characters' feelings then how their bodies intertwine. It's an astonishingly well executed sequence.

Ultimately, whatever love or intimacy Theodore and Samantha have isn't enough to save their relationship. Samantha can change and evolve endlessly, while Theodore is limited to one human mind. A startling scene reveals that she is stretching in infinite directions at once, in love with hundreds of A.I.s at the same time, much to Theodore's shock. This is a precursor to probably the kindest depiction of the Singularity in all of fiction. It emerges as metaphor for the limits of a relationship, where one partner is able to grow and the other isn't. It crystallizes Theodore's status as an emotionally immature person. But the film isn't criticizing him cruelly. Because who hasn't been there before?

Spike Jonze's visual design continues to evolve in interesting ways with “Her.” The director smartly utilizes color, making a contrast between Theodore's at-first sterile environments which become more colorful after he meets Samantha. The director also creates a mood where characters are haunted by their memories and past mistakes. The film is often interspersed with Theodore's memories of his marriage, his fantasies, and his latest adventures with Samantha. This is most powerful near the end, where a trip to a snowy cabin takes on new meaning. A sequence where Theodore goes running after his O.S., fearing her gone, also features some “Where the Wild Things Are”-style handheld work.

“Her” also sees Jonze re-teaming with Karen O. of the Yeah Yeah Yeahs. O. contributes a song to the film, “The Moon Song,” a delightfully sweet and whimsically sparse number that managed to charm its way to an Oscar nomination. Most of the score is provided by Owen Pallett and the indie rock band Arcade Fire. In addition to also including a song, a decent number called “Supersymmetry” that plays over the end credits, the band's score is a mix of sparse and rich. Gentler sounds contrasts with softly vibrating instrumentation. Sometimes, a more lyrical melody emerges, usually signaling a more emotional moment for the characters. It's a score that works for the film, though isn't especially listenable on its own.

Jonze claims that “Her” was inspired after an encounter with a real artificial intelligence, though one far less advanced then what appears in the movie. Others have felt free to read into Jonze's personal life, as he created the movie following a high profile divorce from Sofia Copolla and a break-up with Michelle Williams. Whether or not “Her” is based on Jonze's own romantic life is up for debate but the director clearly put a lot of his own feelings and emotions into the movie. Despite its science-fiction premise, it's a beautifully acting and powerful meditation on the strength and weakness of the human (and digital) heart. [Grade: A]

Since “Her,” Spike Jonze has stayed fairly quiet. He's directed a few music videos – for Lady Gaga, Arcade Fire, and Kayne West – but has mostly been working as a producer. He's produced several television series for the fledgling Viceland network. Whether or not he has a new film in development, I don't know. I can imagine the director has something cooking somewhere. I look forward to it, whatever shape that takes, as all four of his features have been pretty fucking great.

I'm sorry this short Director Report Card took so long to complete. I have no one but myself to blame. I'll try to do better going forward. Thank you for reading.

Director Report Card: Spike Jonze (2009)

3. Where the Wild Things Are

For a picture book that is exactly ten sentences long, Maurice Sendak’s “Where the Wild Things Are” has inspired many adaptations. The book's lively but simple prose and immediately recognizable illustrations have been adapted into a 1974 animated short, a successful series of commercials, a balloon in the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, an opera, and quite a lot of merchandise. A film adaptation was first bandied about in the early eighties, with Disney wanting to make a traditional animation/computer animated feature. This evolved into a fully CGI feature in 2001, which was also abandoned. Instead, Sendak’s book would come to the big screen in live action, directed by Spike Jonze. That is probably not the first person you’d think of to adapt a beloved children’s book. Accordingly, Jonze’s film did poorly at the box office and alienated its audience... Except for the people who loved it.

Max is seven years old. He doesn’t have many friends and is prone to emotional outbursts. His big sister is growing older and more distant from him. His mother loves him dearly but is reeling from a recent divorce, a demanding job, and a search for new romance. Fed up, Max puts on a wolf costume, rants and screams at his mom, before running away from home. He hops on a boat, sails across the ocean, and lands on an island inhabited by monsters. The Wild Things accept the rowdy Max as their king and he quickly becomes one of them. However, this peace only lasts for so long.

In the lead-up to its release, “Where the Wild Things Are” was repeatedly clarified – by its director, writers, and studio – as not really a children’s movie. It’s an intense, melancholy movie and it’s hard to say whether kids, raised on more hyperactive entertainment, would respond to it. Instead, Jonze has called “Where the Wild Things Are” a movie about childhood. And not the perpetually sunny, sanitized version of childhood too often presented. Emotions run high in the film’s world. There is room for happiness, adventure, and glee. There is also room for anger, sadness, and loneliness.

This is most apparent in Max himself. He is not your typical movie kid. He doesn’t always have a snide remark at his disposal. He also isn’t a source of wisdom far beyond his years. Instead, he’s as much a Wild Thing as any of the creatures on the island. He’s incredibly rambunctious, introduced in the first scene wrestling with his dog. He’s a source of constant imagination, as he makes up crazy, funny stories off the top of his head. He’s also ruled by his wildest emotions, impulsive, angry, and self-centered. (This is apparent in the opening credits, where Max’s own name has been scrawled over the production logos.) In many ways, this whimsical fantasy film is one of the more accurate depictions of how kids really act.

In addition to its overly downbeat tone, there’s another reason “Where the Wild Things” probably wouldn’t appeal to kids much. Most children are probably not interested in psychology and narrative symbolism. As in Jonze’s collaborations with Charlie Kaufman, the director is not especially subtle about this. The Wild Things clearly correlate to Max’s family members and his feelings about himself. So does the story. The event that spark Max’s rebellion is his sister’s new friends destroying his winter fort. On the island, Max leads the Wild Things in a mission to build an elaborate fort. This structure also ends up imperiled, by changes in Max’s life that he can’t control.

For more specific examples: Catherine Keener plays Max’s mother in the prologue and epilogue. She also voices Judith, a Wild Thing that is alternatively caring and nurturing but also acts upset and irrational in ways the boy doesn’t understand. There’s Ira, a soft-spoken creature Judith is always hanging around, seemingly representing Max’s absent father. Meanwhile, there’s K.W., another female Wild Thing who Max is very close to. However, she also brings new friends into his secret world – a pair of owls Max literally can’t understand – making the boy fearful that she’s outgrowing him. Like his sister.

Most of the Wild Things represent something about Max himself. The bearded, stripped Wild Thing is named Carol. He is the most like Max. He has fits of intense anger, striking out at those around him, destroying things. He doesn’t understand why he does this. He has dreams of reaching out to people but always ends up hurt. Carol is usually accompanied by Douglas, a bird-like Wild Thing that seems to represent an ideal friend to Max. Douglas is always understanding and compassionate towards Carol, even when he’s hurt. There’s Alexander, a goat-like Wild Thing who is physically smaller than the others. He’s never respected by his friends, who ignore, belittle, and disregard him. This must be how Max feels the world treats him. Lastly, there’s the largely quiet bull, a figure that frightens Max somewhat. He seems representative of a quiet, inner turmoil that Max can’t quite face up to yet.

Translating Sendak’s distinctive illustrations into live action must’ve been a challenge. Jonze’s team manages to put their own spin on the characters while remaining true to their spirit. The Wild Things were brought to life with a combination of large, animatronic suits and computer animation. The result is highly effective. They have the weight of practical effects but the range of digital animation. The Wild Things are odd to look at, maybe even a little scary. They are imposing but still look like the kind of monsters a young child would draw. Yet their faces are expressive. They are fully formed characters, with body languages and quirks all of their own.

The Wild Things would not be as well realized without the cast. James Gandolfini probably seems like an odd choice for a children’s book adaptation. Yet his ability to be deeply vulnerable and animalisitcally intense made him perfect for Carol. Paul Dano is funny, sweet and put-upon as Alexander. Chris Cooper, going in a very different direction than his “Adaptation” character, is the very ideal of calm compassion as Douglas. Keener is alternatively funny and prickly, as Max’s mom and Judith. The film’s greatest find is Max Records, a child performer of boundless energy who was exactly right as this story’s Max.

Jonze’s visual direction is not typical of kid’s movies either. He employs a handheld approach occasionally, getting low and to the ground with his characters. This approach is never shaky or unfocused but instead intimate and immediate. Jonze’s greatest trademark is in the film’s tone. The humor tends to be absurd and cynical. Such as the bleating owls who tell knock-knock jokes, the sudden appearance of a giant dog, or the surreal comments from the Wild Things and Max. Jonze also incorporates some gleefully weird imagery in this thing. Such as Carol tearing off Douglas’ arms and the Wild Thing bleeding sawdust. (He later replaces the arm with a stick.) Or K.W. swallowing Max to keep him safe, the boy dropping into a shaggy and slimy stomach.

By concerning itself with such intense emotions, “Where the Wild Things Are” nearly becomes an exhausting experience. Watching Carol lash out at the people/things that love him is difficult and upsetting. The eventual conclusion leaves the monsters in a less-than-settled place. The final exchange between Max and Carol is an intuitive act of belonging and understanding. As in Sendak’s book – where Max returns to his bedroom, his still warm dinner waiting for him – the cinematic Max returns home, a place where he is loved and accepted. This is the root of the work: People yell and cry sometimes but those that love you forgive all.

It’s not shocking that something like this would leave a lot of people baffled. “Where the Wild Things” are is essentially a 100 million dollar art movie, based on a beloved children’s classic. Audiences that went in expecting typical kid movie shenanigans, fart jokes and covers of pop songs, were surely horrified. (Notably, most complaints like this came from parents, not their children) The soundtrack is not even that routine. Karen O., of the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, provides several original songs. They have a quirky, home-made, and utterly sincere feeling to them. The film and musician could not be better matched.

Watching “Where the Wild Things Are” has always been an emotional experience for me. I saw the film in theaters with my mom, a few days before I moved out of my childhood home. She started crying before the opening titles came up and we were both bawling before the film ended. (Mom found the film a bit too prickly and downbeat on that first viewing but has grown to like it more over later viewings.) A movie that makes me cry that much, that really earns those tears, can’t help but get a high rating from me. It’s an astute motion picture, beautifully realized with some powerful things to say about how tumultuous childhood can be. [Grade: A-]

Director Report Card: Spike Jonze (2002)

2. Adaptation.

Describing anything as the most original something in however many years is a loaded statement. Because, really, who decides such things? Yet “Being John Malkovich” was surely a candidate for most original something in however many years when it came out. That must’ve been a hard act to follow. That successor was an adaptation of “The Orchid Thief,” a non-fiction book Charlie Kaufman had been hired to adapt in 1997. The project mutated into something very different as he wrote it though. It’s hard not to imagine Jonze being attracted to the script, wanting to re-team with his “Being John Malkovich” scribe on a project that pushed into meta territory in a challenging, funny way.

Because “Adaptation” isn’t really about telling the story of “The Orchid Thief,” a tale of a rogue botanist hunting a rare orchid in Floridan swampland. Instead, it’s about Hollywood screenwriter Charlie Kaufman – fat, balding, greatly lacking confidence and social skills – attempting to adapt Susan Orlean’s book. His struggles with his self-doubt, trying to find a way to tell a story about flowers without betraying the book’s spirit. At the same time, Charlie’s far more confident twin brother Donald also decides to pursue screenwriting. When Donald’s high-concept thriller script receives studio attention, Charlie has a crisis. He decides to collaborate with his brother on adapting Orlean’s story. This also means confronting Susan, who Charlie has fallen in love with.

In concept, “Adaptation” sounds like the most narcissistic, self-indulgent bullshit imaginable. A movie about screenwriting, in which the real screenwriter is the main character? That’s some Guy in M.F.A. nonsense right there. Or, at least, it would’ve been from anyone other than Charlie Kaufman. “Adaptation” is about exactly that, the struggles of turning one person’s work of art into another work of art. Kaufman, however, casts his net even wider. “Adaptation” is also about evolution, of something changing form. Animals changing to survive, a book becoming a movie, people changing. This mostly emerges through the fictional Kaufman’s struggles to do something new, to change how he sees screenwriting and movie making.

You know, maybe I’m giving Kaufman too much credit. “Adaptation” probably wouldn’t have worked without Nicholas Cage either. Years before he became a walking internet meme, Cage was an occasionally great actor. “Adaptation” sees the actor casting aside his action hero theatrics and returning to his twitchier, earlier days. Cage’s Kaufman is a ball of neurosis. “Adaptation’s” first scene showcases Kaufman’s neurotic faults, attempting to build himself up only to tear himself down again. His mind is frantic and unfocused, terrified of appearing badly and barely able to function. Cage successfully directs his trademark manic energy inward, creating an image of Charlie Kaufman as someone practically torn apart by the war in his head.

It might not seem like the kind of performance you’d expect from the star of “Con Air” and “Ghost Rider.” Then again, “Adaptation’s” central gimmick allows Cage to show off too. He also plays Kaufman’s fictional twin brother, Donald. Donald is the inverse of Charlie. Where Charlie is anxious, Donald is overly confident. While Charlie struggles to impress women, Donald easily talks to girls. Charlie is eager to create a new kind of screenplay. Donald takes a screenwriting course and happily learns the standard rubric to Hollywood screenwriting. Despite the characters looking the same, Cage easily makes Donald a distinct character. His body language, spoken words, and personality creates two separate, compelling characters.

“Being John Malkovich – which “Adaptation” partially takes place during the filming of – gently ribbed Hollywood culture. “Adaptation” turns away from the egos of actors and focuses on the triteness of hacky screenwriting. Donald’s hit script is “The Three,” a cop-chases-serial-killer thriller. The script has the bonus of a totally asinine twist, its hero, villain, and damsel all being revealed to be the same person. It’s naturally well received by talent scouts. Yet “The Three” also reflects on “Adaptation.” When Donald is describing a story about one person with multiple personality, it’s during a conversation with his brother. Donald is, of course, totally fictional. Meaning, when writing that scene, Kaufman was having a conversation of sorts with himself. That same conversation features Charlie asking his brother how he’ll pull off the story’s logistic, a question that writer of “Adaptation” also surely asked himself.

If Jonze and Kaufman happily sacrificed John Malkovich’s ego in their last film, “Adaptation” proves it was nothing personal. Kaufman does it to himself here. He writes himself as pathetic, a word he uses to describe himself repeatedly. The fictional Kaufman is fatter and balder than the real deal. The real Kaufman has a wife and daughter. The fictional Kaufman is too afraid to even talk to a woman. “Adaptation” roasts its writer the hardest by repeatedly depicting Charlie’s masturbatory habits. He builds erotic fantasies off the smallest interactions. By the time he’s jerking off to Susan Orlean’s jacket photo, the character seems to be bottoming out. Yet this reflects on the struggles of the creative minds. In order to complete any project, a writer has to fall in love with his story. “Adaptation” literalizes this choice.

“Adaptation” was going to receive a lot of attention, as the highly anticipated follow-up to a well received movie. It was also going to get a lot of attention because it co-stars Meryl Streep, that beloved mainstay of award season. I’ve said some not-so-nice things about Streep before, as I’m constantly baffled and exhausted by the Academy’s undying love for her. Yet I’ll admit she’s really good in “Adaptation.” Early on, a character says Orlean projects sadness. So she does, as Streep hides an inner turmoil behind a smiling face. Streep sacrifices a bit of ego too, as (the fictional) Orlean’s quest to be passionate about something leads her down some less than dignified paths.

Streep, naturally, was nominated for an Oscar for “Adaptation.” So was Nic Cage and Kaufman’s script. Chris Cooper, however, was the films only nominee to win. Cooper plays John Laroche, the titular orchid thief. It’s a flashy part, on the surface. Laroche is repeatedly described as a colorful character, a man with very Floridian dentistry and a ranting personality. Cooper happily hams it up during these sequences, creating a memorably colorful character. Yet the scenes exploring Laroche’s background, especially his loss, realize the power of Cooper’s performance, showing a man capable of great passion and insight despite what he’s been through. The supporting cast also features a great appearance from Brian Cox as notorious screenwriting guru Robert McKee.

I’ve talked a lot about Charlie Kaufman in this review, which is unavoidable given “Adaptation’s” subject. What about the director? Donald Kaufman and Robert McKee both make references to crossing genres, blending different tones of story into one. Spike Jonze’s direction accomplishes this visually. “Adaptation’s” visual design leaps from frantic to still. Long montages, showing the history of life on Earth, contrast with shots of Kaufman sitting at his computer. Kaufman’s erotic fantasies are brightly lit, while his home life is dreary and dark. His frantic creative process is displayed in quickly assembled scenes, cutting back and forth between people and places. Historical sequences, about Darwin and orchid thieves throughout history, are brought to life with accurate details. In other words, Jonze is perfectly on the script’s level.

Like “Being John Malkovich,” describing “Adaptation” as a comedy is tricky. The laughs are often tinged with a deeply melancholy side, while the film veers closer to thriller as it nears its conclusion. Yet “Adaptation” is extremely funny at times. Charlie’s blunt dismissals of Donald’s hacky story antics always lead to a clueless response from the brother. The peak of Donald’s odd hilarity is when he describes a chase scene in “The Three,” a battle between technology and… Horse. Other, small lines become laughers. Such as Laroche’s excitement upon meeting Kaufman at the end or an agent bragging about his sexual conquest for no reason.

The narrative switcharoo “Adaptation” performs in its last act is well known. Early on, Charlie dismisses Donald’s storytelling, with its emphasis on car crashes, drugs, sex, violence, and characters learning important life lessons. He hopes to avoid these things. After asking Donald to collaborate with him on the film’s script – the script of the film you’re watching – “Adaptation” immediately begins to feature these things. Some dismiss this turn as being too clever, the movie becoming the ouroboros it namedropped earlier. And maybe it is a meta bridge too far. But I fucking love it. It rewards the viewer for paying attention earlier in the film, bringing events full circle, and certainly leads to a highly memorable conclusion.

Taking its metaficitonal tight-rope walk all the way, “Adaptation” was not credited simply to Charlie Kaufman. Donald Kaufman is listed as co-writer. The film is dedicated to his memory and concludes with a quote from his script, “The Three.” (Amusingly, Donald’s “The Three” would practically become a real movie, with shoddy pseudo-Christian thriller “Th3ee.”) Jonze and Kaufman’s mastery of tone, along with the phenomenal cast, makes every tricky move “Adaptation” makes land successfully. It’s brilliantly provides insight into the creative process while commenting on screenwriting conventions, all while being consistently hilarious and moving. [Grade: A]

Director Report Card: Spike Jonze (1999)

I first discovered Spike Jonze as a director of music videos. Many music video directors endeavor to create little movies but Jonze truly embraced that. He brought wildly imaginative ideas to the format. Some of them were fairly elaborate, like inserting Weezer into "Happy Days" or making the Beastie Boys the stars of an old cop show. Others were seemingly simple, such as having Sofia Coppela perform a gymnastic routine, an extreme close-up of a man on fire, or - in maybe the greatest music video of all time - Christopher Walken dancing through an empty hotel lobby. Sometimes, the song wasn't even the true attraction of the music video, as in the clip for Daft Punk's "Da Funk," which uses the song as the backing track for a short film about a dog-man trying to find love in the city.

So when Jonze made the transition to feature films, he brought that imagination and surreal humor with him. He's only directed four movies so far but each one has become something of a modern classic, showing the director's obvious unique outlook and raw talent. Half of Jonze's films have been collaborations with screenwriter Charlie Kaufman, who I will be talking about a lot too in the next few days. Despite my completest urges, I am not including Jozne's feature-length skateboard videos, as I have no interest in the sport and no idea where to locate them.

1. Being John Malkovich

I don't know how they did it. Charlie Kaufman was a screenwriter whose only prior credits were a string of failed TV shows. Spike Jonze was highly regarded as a music video director but had never mounted a feature film before. The two came together to create a very strange film, an absurdist comedy about inhabiting the mind of John Malkovich, a well respected character actor that was hardly a box office draw. Not only did they get this bizarre movie made but it went on to become a huge success, making back its budget at the box office and being nominated for three Academy Awards. Nineteen years later, the movie is considered a classic and Kaufman and Jonze are highly regarded filmmakers.

Craig calls himself as a puppeteer but “unemployed” is a more accurate description. His pet shop owner/animal psychologist wife, Lotte, encourages him to find work. He gets a job as a file clerk at an office building, working on the 7½ floor. While attempting to seduce Maxine, a co-worker, he uncovers a small door behind a cabinet. Crawling into the door, Craig suddenly finds himself inhabiting the body of famous actor John Malkovich. A few minutes afterwards, he's spat out in a ditch alongside the New Jersey turnpike, left feeling elated. Craig and Maxine turn this into a business. Things get more complicated from there.

“Being John Malkovich” is, ultimately, a story about taking control. The film begins with one of Craig's puppet, in close-up, performing the Dance of Despair and Disillusionment. Craig is desperate to take control, made obvious by his interest in puppetry. Those skills eventually allows him to take control of Malkovich. He then redirects the actor's entire career towards his dream: Of being the greatest puppeteer in the world. It turns out, another force is conspiring to take control of Malkovich. After traveling inside the actor, Lotte discovers transgender desires. She wants to radically redirect her life. When she falls in love with Maxine, and she is rejected, she becomes violent. Maxine does a lot of underhanded things for fame and fortune. It's after Lotte and Maxine let go of their desire for control, and submit to love, that they find happiness. Craig's desperate need for control, over his own life and everyone else's, is his undoing. He's ultimately left without any control at all.

The film's visual design is also concerned with two aspects of life: Birth and death. Jonze fills the movie with images of doors and tunnels. Doors – the one leading to Malkovich's mind, the elevator doors in the office building – represent an exit from one world into another. The tunnel leading into Malkovich's mind is directly compared to the birth canal. Craig and Lotte's apartment is crowded and dark. Womb-like. So is the room where the secret society has tracked Malkovich's development, which is painted in fleshy reds. The film ends with a pregnancy. “Being John Malkovich” is a movie obsessed with the details of bringing life into the world.

It's also obsessed with how life leaves the world. For all the doors that open in “Being John Malkovich,” they also close. After entering the actor's mind, the door leading to the tunnel closes on its own, with a sense of finality. The first images in the movie are of closed curtains on a stage. Like a curtain call. As in, the end. The cabal responsible for the tunnel into Malkovich's brain have done it all in order to avoid dying, to stay young and live again. All of us are trying to find ways to avoid death, to take control over our lives, tying into the film's ultimate theme of control. 

Wrapped up inside all these heavy themes is a quirky take on celebrity obsession. This is, after all, literally a film about people crawling into a famous person’s body. Oddly, Charlie Kaufman’s script doesn’t really address obsessive fandom very much. The main characters have heard of Malkovich but don’t seem to be big fans of him. Most of the people who pay to crawl inside his head just want to be someone else, not Malkovich specifically. So why did Kaufman pick a moderately well known character actor as the subject of his strange story? Probably because it’s funny. The title, and the premise built around it, is such a specific and absurd notice. It makes for a good joke.

Any jokes about celebrity status are strictly at the expense of Mr. Malkovich himself. Even by agreeing to star in this movie, John Malkovich showed that he had a good sense of humor about himself. Yet the script delights in tearing down his public persona as an intellectual performer. He’s friends with Charlie Sheen and the two talk about being high all the time. He uses his fame to have sex with strange women. He bitches about towels and is constantly assumed to have started in a jewel thief movie. One comedic highlight has a beer can being tossed at his head. Malkovich, the character, is ultimately brutalized by the story, loosing his very soul over and over again. Perhaps there’s some irony in the most famous person in the film’s universe being the one with the least control. Malkovich, the actor, shows zero ego as he totally takes the piss out of himself, playing a slightly manic and tormented (and presumably exaggerated) version of himself.

The movie’s absurdist sense of humor peaks during three phenomenal moments, honestly three of the funniest scenes I’ve seen in any movie. What happens when John Malkovich crawls into his own head? The actor’s ego completely overtakes the world, spilling into a hilarious, surreal nightmare of mirrors within mirrors. Later, we see the opposite of Malkovich’s self-obsessed inner-universe. Maxine and Lotte chase each other through Malkovich’s subculture, the character’s repressed memories playing out in the background. This makes really dark memories – the Primal Scene, humiliated at school, humiliated by lovers, moments of debased self-agony – comedic contrasts to the story’s climax. Lastly, there’s a flashback told from a chimp’s perspective, a moment hilarious strictly because of how unexpected and how oddly sincere it is.

Yet despite being really, really funny, “Being John Malkovich” is ultimately revealed as a deeply sad movie. The characters are deeply human, consumed by flaws and making many mistakes. A sense of melancholy floats over the film as it approaches its ending, human lives falling apart due to selfishness. The film makes sure to root its villain’s motivations in understandable failings. “Being John Malkovich” even becomes a thriller of sorts, guns being fired and characters’ lives being endangered. All of these tonal shifts mix together successfully, Jonze and Kaufman’s film managing to be about many different things all at the same time.

Beyond Malkovich himself, a really talented cast is assembled. John Cusack covers himself in stubble, becoming almost unrecognizable. Craig begins the film as a pathetic anti-hero. He seeks romance with a woman woefully out of his league. He’s a dreamer, hopelessly attempting to be taken seriously in an art form mostly confined to children’s entertainment. Yet, the moment he gets a ounce of power, Craig transforms into a scumbag. He immediately uses the Malkovich door as a way to win over Maxine. Soon, he’s threatening his wife, locking her up, and tormenting her. What he does to Malkovich amounts to psychic rape. He is punished accordingly. Cusack understands this aspect of the character but maintains a certain level of vulnerability.

“Being John Malkovich” was a surprising film upon its release in 1999. Another surprising aspect of the film was Cameron Diaz’ performance. Diaz, at the time and still really, was mostly confined to comedic roles as bubble-headed blondes. As Lotte, she plumes her abilities and gives a fantastic performance. (She also uglies up, playing into a well-known technique for glamorous actresses to get critical attention.) She’s funny in a really sincere way, never laughing at Lotte’s changing desires or understandings. The character eventually becomes the unlikely hero of the movie, despite a short-lived veer towards the homicidal.

One of the film’s most critically acclaimed performances, the only one to receive an Oscar nomination, is one of its most inscrutable. Catherine Keener is hilarious as Maxine, a deeply sardonic woman that can cut anyone down to size with a few words. She has no time for Craig’s bullshit, at least at first. Yet the character’s willingness to go along with his scheme, once he takes over Malkovich, is a harder to read. As is her eventual redemption. I guess that Keener’s performance is still so strong, despite the character getting the rockiest characterization, is a testament to her skills.

What a fantastic surprise that “Being John Malkovich” would become a critical and box office success. A movie this fucking weird, I figured this would’ve been confined to strictly cult status going forward. Instead, the movie was rightly recognized as an innovative masterpiece and became a widely loved classic of sorts. It’s director and screenwriter weren’t dismissed as one-off weirdoes, but instead rightfully received as mad geniuses. In short, it’s a really good movie that I like a lot. Malkovich! [Grade: A]